Debbie Macomber by Where Angels Go Page B

she hurriedly typed back. I can’t tell you how freeing it was for me to tell you about my divorce. It’s not a subject I bring up lightly. I felt like such a failure when we split up and that feeling never went away.
    I know. That’s how I felt when my marriage ended, too.
    It seems we have even more in common than we realized, she told him.
    I was thinking the same thing.
    They chatted for most of an hour until Beth’s stomach growled, reminding her that she hadn’t eaten dinner. Peter couldn’t stay online long because he was seeing a friend, so they ended their conversation.
    It was just as well, because Beth had to call Heidi and let her friend know there’d been a small change in plans.
    After she reached her, Beth explained that she’d be seeing Peter in Leavenworth and said she hoped Heidi didn’t mind.
    â€œMind? Of course I don’t mind,” Heidi told her. “I think it’s so romantic that you two will meet up there. All we need now is some snow for the day to be absolutely perfect.”
    Snow in Santa’s Village—that would indeed be marvelous.
    â€œI wonder if I’m expecting too much,” she said, suddenly anxious.
    â€œHow can you help it?” Heidi asked. “He does seem too good to be true.”
    No dating service could have set her up with a more suitable candidate. They agreed on practically everything they’d discussed. In the past week, Beth had learned that they both read the same books, liked the same kinds of food—Mexican and Chinese—and adored anchovies on Caesar salad but not pizza. Granted, those might be superficial similarities, but unlike John, Peter was responsible and dedicated, both qualities she admired. She knew this from his loyalty to his friends, his seriousness about his career—as a coffee buyer at Starbucks—his affection toward his parents and many other examples she’d gleaned.
    Maybe he was too good to be true, as Heidi had said. But Beth’s instincts told her that Peter was a man she wanted to know better, a man worth knowing better. Not that her instincts had been what you’d call reliable in the past. So, before things went any further, she had to learn if this could become a viable relationship—and there was only one way to find out.
    In other words, Beth was counting on their face-to-face meeting to tell her whether these feelings for Peter were real—or just a fantasy concocted during their online adventures.

11
    C arter could hardly wait to get to school. As soon as the bus dropped him off he headed for the playground, instead of running into the classroom with Timmy and his other friends. Behind the building, he looked carefully around.
    Rusty was nowhere to be seen. His heart sank.
    â€œWhat are you doing out here?” Timmy asked, chasing after him.
    â€œNothing,” Carter murmured, his shoulders slumping. All night he could barely sleep thinking about the stray. The more he thought about it, the more he realized this wasn’t just any dog. This was his dog. His Rusty. God had sent him this dog. Rusty was the answer to Carter’s prayer.
    â€œWanna play soccer?” Timmy asked. “I can get Cameron and Isaiah and—”
    â€œNo, thanks.”
    Timmy looked as dejected as Carter felt. “It’s cold out here. Let’s go inside.”
    â€œAll right.” Timmy followed him off the playground and into the building.
    When classes started, he had trouble paying attention to Ms. Jensen. Carter kept wondering what had happened to Rusty. He worried that Animal Control had picked him up, and then worried that they hadn’t.
    Deep down, Carter knew that if Rusty was at a shelter, he’d at least be out of the cold. And there’d be plenty of food for him. But Carter had brought an extra-big lunch today, just in case.
    After the recess bell rang, his friends dashed out the door, eager to put on their winter clothes